


Castle of Glass

by Amycat8733



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sentient Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amycat8733/pseuds/Amycat8733
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a simple mission, a fire changes everything. It’s going to take a miracle to keep John sane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castle of Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kariesue for the 2012 Beya Secret Elf exchange.
> 
> Have tissues handy - you'll need them!

 

The pain from his burned hands meant nothing to John. It was a distant pain, easily managed compared to the feeling raging through his heart.

This was supposed to be an easy mission – a visit to an established trading partner to check on the trade balances and to scope out the marketplace for additional opportunities and some Christmas presents. They had felt this was such a safe mission that Teyla had brought Torren with her. The toddler had been a bit cranky last night which had kept Teyla from getting much sleep, so he had left her and Torren sleeping at the inn while he took Ronon, Stackhouse and two of his team to scout the market. It started raining about an hour after they left the inn, but that wasn’t enough to deter the shoppers.

They were three blocks from the inn when an explosion rocked the morning air and everything changed. Debris rained down around them as they headed for the inn, only to find what was left of the structure in flame. The rain intensified as they stood there and soon had the fires extinguished. John moved to the smoldering structure, moving aside debris in his search. Smoke and ash rose from the scorched beams, threatening to choke him, but he kept going.

He heard shouting, but it was just noise. Hands grabbed him, dragging him from the wreckage, but he fought them off. The hands were trying to keep him from finding _them_ and he refused to let them. Again the hands grabbed him and he lashed out, striking at the bodies behind those hands. He heard grunts of pain, but those were ignored. Nothing mattered except his search.

 After a period of silence, new voices were added to the noise, but they too just slid past him, the words not registering on his mind. Reaching what he thought was the right spot, he started digging again but the hands grabbed him once more. Just as he started to shrug them off he felt a prick in his arm, followed by a coolness that flowed through his veins, darkness following it like a veil.

 

 

* * *

In all of his years in the military, Major Evan Lorne had never seen such a heart-wrenching sight as the one before him. Stackhouse had called, saying there had been an explosion at the inn and that they needed backup for search and rescue. Arriving at the location, Lorne had been greeted by the image of Sheppard digging through the debris, ash in his hair and a wild look in his eyes. Even as he watched, Ronon and another Marine tried to pull Sheppard away from the wreckage, but he fought them off using moves that he would never have guessed the Colonel knew. From the intensity in his demeanor, Lorne could guess who Sheppard was looking for.

He deployed the teams he had brought to start clearing the debris and looking for survivors and bodies. While he was overseeing the search, Carson and a medical team arrived. The Major could see the realization in the Scot’s eyes as he absorbed the scene in front of him. He saw the doctor wince at the sight of Sheppard’s burned hands before he reached into his medical bag and pulled out a syringe. Lorne observed as, needle in hand, Carson motioned to Ronon and LJ, a former Marine turned medic, to hold the Colonel. The two grabbed him and Carson jabbed the Colonel with the syringe just as he started to shake the bigger men off. Fortunately, the drug took effect almost immediately and Sheppard collapsed into Ronon’s arms.

 

 

* * *

Seeing Sheppard scrabbling through the smoldering debris shook Carson’s self-control. He recognized the wild look and single-minded determination in the Colonel’s eyes as he watched him dig. He winced when he saw the man’s burned hands along with the other blisters on his exposed skin. He knew that nothing would drag Sheppard from his search, so Carson knew he would have to be removed. He dug out a pre-filled syringe, motioned his intent to Ronon and LJ and moved in. It only took a moment for him to jab the needle in and depress the plunger, sending the strong sedative on its way. When Sheppard crumpled, a mixed sigh of relief and despair flew through the assembled personnel.

Carson and Ronon carried the Colonel’s stretcher to the waiting jumper. During the trip, Carson cleaned Sheppard up as much as he could, removing the ash impregnated clothes and cleaning the burns on his face and arms. The burned hands he left because he wanted a sterile facility before he started on those, instead wrapping them in moist sterile cloths.

Back in Atlantis, it took hours to properly clean Sheppard’s hands. The blisters had broken open and gotten full of ash and other types of debris. Even with a broad spectrum antibiotic in his IV, Sheppard developed a fever before they were finished with his hands. One of the nurses commented that she’d never heard of an infection setting in that fast, but Carson had. He knew why it came on so quickly. His patient wasn’t fighting back.

After two days, Carson decided to fight dirty. He used Teyla and Rodney’s names as prods, telling the sick man that they had been found and were there with him. Sheppard started showing definite signs of improvement. After four days, Sheppard woke up and Carson was there when he did. The Colonel was only awake for just a few minutes before going back to sleep. Carson was dreading the man being awake for any length of time because then the gig would be up.

When Sheppard finally did stay awake long enough, Lorne was with Carson. The search teams had completely cleared the site. They found the charred remains of a tac vest and a blanket that Carson had recognized as Torren’s. Everything else was ash. After they told him the news, Sheppard never said a word. He barely even acknowledged their presence.

 

 

* * *

Waking in the infirmary was nothing new for John. Waking without one of his team present was. He lay in bed, staring at the blue-green ceiling above him, pulling his thoughts from the fog of the drugs still in his system. He shifted slightly, checking for injuries. No broken bones or puncture wounds greeted his survey, just the pull of burned skin on his hands, arms and face. He raised a hand to brush his hair back and was startled to raise a white mitt instead. He checked the other hand and it was similarly bandaged.

When Carson and Lorne told him the news, he felt like a door had just slammed shut in his soul. He could tell by the looks they were giving him that they expected some kind of reaction. The problem was, he had no reaction to show them. Everything was numb – there were no feelings left except those of loneliness, heartache and despair.

Carson kept him a few more days until his temperature was back to normal and that the bandages on his hands had been downsized. When he was released, John went to his old quarters. He couldn’t stand the thought of being in that suite by himself. Standing in the middle of the room, he looked at all of the things that reminded him of what he’d lost. He grabbed an empty box from the corner and filled it, placing the box in the back of the closet when he finished. Done with his packing, John sat on his bed and kicked his sneakers off. He pulled the covers back and fluffed the pillow. As he did, something fell out, landing on the floor. He bent over to pick it up, his heart catching in his throat when he realized what it was. One night, when he was watching Torren, the toddler had drawn him a picture. It showed the three of them in a tent together. Hand shaking, he sat up, holding the picture, staring at it, silent tears running down his face. John fell over sideways onto his bed; the picture clutched to his chest and cried himself to sleep.

 

 

* * *

Even as John mourned, the city did as well. Even those persons that were new mourned the loss of the vibrant Athosian and her precious son along with the Chief Scientist. The bright trappings of the holiday season couldn’t overcome the sorrow that flowed through the city. Atlantis showed the sorrow that she could not express with power fluctuations, brown outs and other malfunctions. Most systems continued to work, but they would only function at a percentage of their usual efficiency. Zelenka pointed to this as proof that the city was aware, possibly even sentient because a computer could not feel sorrow.

Carson submerged himself in his work.

Ronon spent his time running and working out in the gym.

Lorne buried himself in work as well, having his own and Sheppard’s to do. Majors Teldy and Waters helped, but it still fell to Lorne to do most of it.

Woolsey held a memorial service for the trio. John stayed in the shadows to avoid the looks of pity.

When the Athosians were informed, they performed the Rite of Passage for Teyla and Torren. Halling invited John to the ceremony, but John never showed.

Jeannie Miller was also informed. Woolsey recorded a message detailing what had occurred and telling her that Rodney’s belongings would be shipped back after the next supply run. It was to be sent during Atlantis’ next check in with the SGC.

 

 

* * *

For the first few days after being released, John showed up at the infirmary to have his hands checked and for the bandages to be changed. After that, he just didn’t even care.

He spent his days being a ghost, haunting the halls at night. Only a few people saw him and even fewer spoke to him or were spoken to. He raided the kitchen at night, taking whatever food he wanted for the next day, which wasn’t much. As time passed, his appetite decreased to the point that he was barely eating one meal a day.

He grew even more adept at avoiding people. Ronon and Carson kept trying to corner him to get him to eat or sleep, but Atlantis mourned with him and helped him hide. On nights when Carson or Ronon would camp out in his quarters or in another of his favorite retreats, he would go to a damaged tower on the East Pier. No one else went there, the tower having been deemed unsafe until it could be repaired. John would stay in the tower until Atlantis gave him the all clear signal, then he would return to the city through the sub level passages.

During this time, the seasonal rains started. John’s tower leaked like a sieve, the roof having been blown off in a Wraith attack. Wrapped up in his cloak of despair, John ignored the rain. He didn’t care if he got soaked, he’d just go in, dry off and change clothes the next day. He ignored the chills, stuffiness and cough. His body ached, but he welcomed the pain because then his outside matched his inside.

 

 

* * *

Ronon shook off his despair first and knocked Carson out of his. The two of the started trying to catch John to see that he took care of himself, but the man proved elusive. After a week of frustration, Carson and Ronon got Zelenka to help. The Czech came up with a way to mask their signatures from the city and from John. Using the device, Ronon finally caught up to John one morning. He spotted John coming up from the lower levels, soaking wet and filthy. He watched as John entered his quarters, waiting a few minutes to give him time to be involved in whatever task he was doing. When Ronon walked in to John’s room, he found him standing in the middle of the floor, swaying slightly. Ronon could hear him wheezing from the doorway. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, John’s knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.

Ronon quickly called for a medical team. Carson was dismayed at the sight that greeted him when the team brought John to the infirmary. It was obvious that he had given up, refusing to care for himself. John was filthy from head to toe and had lost weight. His hands were in equally bad shape, the bandages caked with blood, pus and dirt. The nurses cut his clothes off and thoroughly scrubbed the sick man. An examination revealed a full-blown case of pneumonia along with dehydration. Carson put in two IV’s and a feeding tube. He also put soft restraints on John, not because he felt that he was a danger, but because Carson didn’t want him removing the feeding tube or the IV’s. Carson and Ronon felt like they were betraying their friend, but they refused to degrade the memories of their other friends by letting John commit passive suicide.

After two days in the infirmary, John woke up. Ronon, Lorne, Zelenka and Carson took turns staying by his side, but he never said a word. He refused to even acknowledge their presences. It hurt for them to see such a strong man so wasted and apathetic, but they all felt in their hearts that, unless a miracle occurred, he was already dead, his body just an empty shell.

 John kept his eyes closed most of the time, whether he was asleep or not in order to avoid seeing the pity and worry in their faces, preferring to live in the comfort of his dreams. The only time he opened his eyes was when Ronon and Carson would get him out of bed to move around. They did this hoping to stimulate his senses, to try to find something to break him out of his shell. Sometimes they took him for a walk, other times they pushed him through the corridor, always hoping for a miracle.

 

 

* * *

Almost four weeks after the tragedy on Maori, a miracle did occur. That afternoon, while Ronon was sitting with John, there was an unscheduled Gate activation. A medical team was called to the Gateroom. Shortly thereafter, a large group of people entered the infirmary. Being in the back in a private room, Ronon couldn’t see what the commotion was about. It felt odd, but he could’ve sworn that the mood of the city just got lighter, like something good had happened.

After a time, the noise died down and Ronon figured that he would go check to see what had happened. He had just stood up when a grinning Carson pulled the door to John’s private room open, beckoning for the Satedan to follow him. Ronon glanced at John, who was asleep according to the monitors. He left the room, shutting the door behind him with only a whisper of sound.

“Lad, I have a surprise.”

Ronon frowned. “A surprise? For me?”

Carson shook his head. “A surprise for all of us. You know that miracle we were hopin’ for…?”

Ronon stopped suddenly, searching the doctor’s face before he bounded through the infirmary in the direction the noise had issued from earlier. He heard a familiar voice that he’d thought to never hear again complaining about something minor and it was music to his ears. He reached out, jerking the curtain open. Before him, sitting on exam beds, were Teyla, Torren and McKay.

Standing at Ronon’s side, Carson whispered. “It’s really them, no clones.”

That was all it took. Ronon surged forward and embraced Teyla and Torren, touching heads with Teyla before turning to McKay and hugging him as well.

Rodney accepted the hug for a moment before squirming free. “Yes, yes, nice to see you too. Glad you missed us, although it would’ve been nice if you’d rescued us. But no, we had to do it ourselves.” Rodney pointed at Torren. “Whatever you do, don’t turn your back on that kid. He’s sweet and sneaky and has been hanging out with Sheppard too long.”

At the mention of John, Teyla looked around. “Carson, Ronon, where is John?”

The two looked at each other, identical troubled looks crossing their faces.

Carson turned to one of the passing nurses. “Kaitlyn, would you watch Torren for a few minutes?”

Kaitlyn came over and took the boy to the play area.

Now Teyla was really worried. “Carson, where is John? Is he alright?”

Carson sat down with a sigh on the end of her bed. “That depends on your definition of alright.”

Rodney frowned. “What do you mean it depends on your definition? We define alright as all limbs intact, no bleeding wounds, breathing, walking, talking, and with a pulse.”

Carson frowned deeper, a look of sorrow on his face. “Using your definition, Rodney, I would have to say that no, he’s not alright.”

A look of horror crossed Rodney’s face. “Is he…”

Carson shook his head. “No, he’s not dead, but I don’t know if you’d call what he is alive either.”

Now it was Teyla’s turn to look worried and frustrated. “Please, Carson, just tell us what is wrong with John.”

“He’s dying. He gave up the day we told him you were dead.”

Rodney’s face grew pale then went red. “Dead? We were kidnapped by the son of a local chieftain that wanted an instant family and a genius scientist as a lackey.”

Carson continued. “John and Lt. Stackhouse were three blocks away when the inn exploded. John barely waited for the fire to go out before he started tearing the place apart to find the three of you. His hands were badly burned by the hot debris.”

Ronon took up the tale. “We found no traces, except for part of Teyla’s tac vest and a blanket that belonged to Torren. Lorne asked around and no one saw the two of you leave under any circumstance. The search teams cleared the site of the inn to the ground.”

Teyla lifted tear-filled eyes. “May we see him Carson?”

Carson stood. “Before we go, I must warn ye. The lad looks just a wee bit terrible. He’s recovering from pneumonia and I had to put in a feeding tube.”

 

 

* * *

Terrible was an understatement. Rodney had seen pictures of plague victims that looked better than Sheppard did. He was so pale and thin that he could’ve been mistaken as a corpse. The only things that marked him as living were the feeding tube, the IV and the movement of his chest. He noticed the bandages and splints on Sheppard’s hands and frowned. “Shouldn’t his hands be healed by now?”

Carson sighed. “Yes, Rodney, normally they would, but the mind affects the body as part of the healing process. It’s why I always try to be optimistic and truthful about serious injuries. Right now, he doesn’t care about his body or anything else out here, so his injuries are healing very slowly. He also hadn’t been eating right and that didn’t help any.”

Rodney looked at his friend. It bothered him to think that this was all because of a kidnapping. He tried to come up with an answer, but nothing came to mind. He railed at himself, cursing his uselessness. It galled him that, after everything he and Teyla did to make it back, he could end up burying his best friend.

 

 

* * *

Teyla was appalled at John’s condition. Seeing his magnificent body so wasted was awful. Knowing that she may never again see the humor in his hazel eyes or hear the tenderness in his voice as he told her he loved her or witness the mischief in his smile while he played with Torren was too horrible to contemplate. Carson speaking John’s name pulled her from her thoughts.

“Ronon and I have tried to break through John’s shell, but so far nothing has worked. I am willing to let the two o’ ye try, because if nothing changes soon, we will lose him.”

Teyla understood the despair in the doctor’s tone. She knew that he and John were friends and that it bothered him to see John in this condition.

“Teyla can do it. She can save him.”

Everyone turned to Rodney. His blue eyes were focused on the occupant of the bed.

“Even though he’s my best friend, Sheppard doesn’t respond to me the way he does her.” Rodney looked up, his eyes pleading with her. “Teyla, you can reach him and bring him back.”

She realized that Rodney was right. With their mental bond, she was the only person who could reach him, well her and one other.

“Carson, I will need a cot, some blankets and to have Torren with me.”

“Torren?” The confusion on the doctor’s face would have been funny at any other time.

Teyla saw Ronon and Rodney exchange a look. “Torren.”

 

 

* * *

John was dreaming. That could be the only explanation for the voices he was hearing. Teyla, McKay and Torren were dead, lost in the tragedy on Maori. He felt someone gently touch his arm. Even then he still thought he was dreaming. The warm touch just didn’t seem real.

He drifted in his semi-conscious state for a while longer, until a voice intruded. At first, he was only aware of the voice registering in his ears then the voice moved inside his head. Another voice joined the first, this one outside his mind. Both voices were filled with tears and urged him to open his eyes and come back to them. They were voices he’d thought to never hear again. He tried to obey the voices, even if only to prove that they weren’t real, but he was tired. When the voices went away for a while, he realized that he wanted them back.

He slipped back into the fog of his dreams, floating on a sea of oblivion until two sources of warmth registered on his mind. One, a pair of small ones, was doing something to his hands that took away the pain. The second, larger source was nestled against his side, radiating love and affection. After a struggle, John opened his eyes, looking to see what the warm spots were. A head of honey colored hair greeted his blurry vision.

“Teyla?” His voice was rough from illness and disuse. “Is it really you?”

The head turned towards him. The brown eyes that greeted his were filled with tears, but their owner was smiling.

“Yes, John, I am real and so are Torren,” and she pointed to the pool of warmth against his left side where the toddler lay asleep, “and Rodney.” She pointed again, to a chair near the door filled with the sleeping physicist.

When a tear fell on his face and she reached up to wipe it off that truly convinced him that she was real. He slowly moved a bandaged hand to touch her cheek, the warmth he found as she wrapped his hand gently with her own flowing through his veins to thaw the ice in his heart. Suddenly, the grief and tears that he had locked away surged to the front. At first, the grief escaped in a small trickle, but, just like a spring thaw, the flow increased until his whole frame was shaking with the release of long-suppressed emotion. John felt her ease him upright, holding him against her chest while the pent up tears escaped, her arms around him to hold him tight, his wrapping around her in turn. After a moment, a second, smaller set of arms joined the first, hugging him as hard as they could. Shortly, two more sets of hands joined in, rubbing his back in small circles, warming him and easing the tightness in his chest.

 

 

* * *

Teyla was ecstatic when John opened his eyes and called her name. Even roughened and hoarse, it was a beautiful sound. She was relieved when his tears started to flow, finally releasing the grief he had bottled away. She drew him up to rest against her shoulder, holding him as if he was antique glass. He was crying so hard that his whole body was shaking. She smiled when Torren joined in, followed by Rodney and Ronon. She turned her head slightly and glimpsed Carson and several of the staff watching from the door, a big smile gracing the Scottish doctor’s face. She gave him a slight nod and he nodded in return before turning to shoo the nurses back to work.

Even after John fell asleep, Teyla continued to hold him for a time. When she eased him back onto his pillows, she noticed that his color was better as was his breathing, which had settled into the rhythm of deep sleep.

“Da be okay now?”

Teyla gathered her son into her arms. “Yes, Torren. Da is going to be alright. We will make sure of that.”

Torren nodded. “Yes. We make Da all better.”

Ronon ruffled his hair. “We sure will.”

With John asleep, the long day started catching up. Teyla yawned and looked at the cot. Ronon caught her and shook his shaggy head.

“You curl up with Sheppard. Bed’s big enough. McKay can have the cot.”

Rodney smirked at the Satedan even as he moved to the cot. “I hope you know that this will probably cripple me. I do have a bad back.”

Ronon grinned. “I’ll straighten it for you in the morning.”

Rodney gulped. “Oh…um…that’s probably not going to be necessary.”

Mindful of the lines, Teyla crawled into the bed next to John. Even though he was sound asleep, he shifted and made room for her. Once she was settled, Ronon arranged the covers over the reunited family, a smile gracing his face at the scene.

 

 

* * *

Word spread quickly through the city. Everyone rejoiced at the miracle that had occurred.

Atlantis celebrated by retuning all of the city systems to peak efficiency.

Woolsey declared an early holiday after recording a new message to Jeannie Miller. Fortunately, McKay’s belongings hadn’t been returned to Earth yet.

The Athosians celebrated the safe return of Teyla, Torren John and Rodney and wished John a speedy recovery.

Lorne enlisted the help of some of the other officers and they completed all of the paperwork before joining the city celebration.

Rodney celebrated his return by not yelling at Zelenka for two days. After that it was business as usual in the science department.

 

 

* * *

John spent three more days in the infirmary. His fever broke the night Teyla returned and Carson removed the feeding tube the next morning. Teyla, Torren, Rodney and Ronon made sure he ate. From past experience, they started him with light but tasty things instead of broth, gradually adding in firmer foods. Carson started to protest, but after observing a few feedings, he realized that they had the right of it, at least as far as caring for John Sheppard was concerned.

Teyla and Ronon helped John with his hands. He had been flexing them, but they were still stiff and would need careful stretching to regain their former agility. They also got John up and walking more since the exercise would do him good.

The first night back in their suite, John refused to be separated from Teyla or Torren. Truth be told, they felt the same way so the trio curled up in John and Teyla’s big bed that night, deriving comfort from the closeness.

Next morning, Teyla was awakened early by a chill. She shifted to flip the covers back into place and realized that John was not in the bed. She glanced towards the bathroom, but it was dark and silent. Slipping from the bed, she put on a robe and went in search of her mate. She found him on their balcony watching the sun rise over the ocean, the early breeze ruffling his hair. Without saying a word, Teyla slipped up beside him and wormed her way into his embrace. John simply tightened his arms around her, his chin resting on the crown of her head as she leaned against his chest.

They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the time together. Eventually, Teyla felt his hands loosen and move to her shoulders, turning her to face him as he stepped back. Clearing his throat, John ducked his head in nervousness.

“Teyla, um … after recent events, I did a lot of thinking, and … I … have something I want to ask you.”

John reached into his pocket and pulled out something small.

“When they told me you were gone, I lost hope. It was like my soul had been ripped out. When I woke up and saw you and discovered that you were alive, my soul blossomed again. I don’t want that to ever happen again, not like that, so I’ve been thinking of how I can keep you with me always.”

“John, I will always be with you.”

John raised his head just a bit, hazel eyes peeking out from beneath his hair. “I know, but I want to make it permanent and official between us.” Taking a deep breath, he raised his head before kneeling in front of her and continued, “Teyla Emmagan, will you marry me?” With his last words, he opened the box and held it out to her.

Teyla looked at the contents. Inside was a slim gold band with two wavy interlocking lines on it. She remembered seeing this in one of the bridal magazines that circulated through the city every so often. The magazine had called it an “infinity band”. She had asked Laura Cadman about it and the Marine lieutenant had explained the symbolism of the design.

Teyla reached out and took the box from John’s trembling fingers. She slipped the ring from the velvet cushion and placed it on her finger before leaning down to the man still kneeling at her feet.

“Yes, John Sheppard, I will marry you.”

In a burst of adrenalin, John surged to his feet and picked Teyla up, swinging her around before setting her down and kissing her soundly.

Teyla looked at the pure joy in his eyes and smiled. “You know that you shall never be rid of me now.”

John smiled back. “That’s okay, ‘cause you’re stuck with me now too.”

The pair laughed and kissed again before heading in to get dressed and have breakfast. Whatever else may happen, they knew that, from this day forward, they would always be together and that nothing could change that.

 

 

* * *

~~ And Life goes on ~~


End file.
